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Theo manoeuvred me through the club as quickly as possible, and before I knew it, we were outside, the chill in the air making me shiver. “Where’s the girl?” It was the only question my brain could latch on to.
“Gone. Thanks for that. Fuck, Emery. Why do you have to ruin everything?”
“Me? I didn’t ask you to look after me. That was your decision, Lewin.”
He manhandled me along the street in the direction of the hotel. I let him because all I wanted now was my bed.
“You coming to Glevum has ruined everything,” he hissed, and I rolled my eyes.
“Yeah? What happened earlier against Arsenal, then?”
A low growl came from his throat, and I fucking relished it. The fresh air had sobered me up enough to appreciate the fact that I still had the ability to piss Theodore Lewin off.
“You’re so fucking smug,” he spat, and it was as if a dam had burst. He ranted about how much he hated playing on the left, how arrogant I was, how he hated me and my posing and my general looks and personality. Basically, he annihilated me with his words. There wasn’t one single thing about me that he liked.
I’d always told myself that I was okay with criticism. Putting yourself out there, not just on social media but as a footballer, meant opening yourself up to the judgement of random strangers. But to hear a complete annihilation of my character come from him, shining a spotlight on my worst parts… Yeah, I knew he hated me…but that point was hammered home right then.
Something cracked inside me. Something fragile that left me exposed and vulnerable.
Ihatedit.
“You think you’re so fucking perfect,” I said in a low voice. It took everything I had to keep my words even and steady. I’d never let him know how much he affected me.
Now, all I wanted to do was to hurt him, like he’d hurt me.
My words kept coming. “I hate you. You resent me, but guess what? I’m good. I’m so fucking good. That’s why I’ve taken your position. That’s why, at the end of the season, I’ll be the player everyone’s talking about.”
An almost inhuman sound came from him as he launched himself at me, sending me staggering into a restaurant front. We grappled, aiming blows at each other, although both of us had drunk too much to do any actual damage.
Distantly, I was aware of the flash of cameras, but it didn’t register until I was straddling Theo, pummelling him, while Lars was attempting to drag me off his body.
That was when the headlines really began.
7
THEO
“What were you thinking?” Harvey slammed his hands down on the table in front of him, his face twisted in a rage I’d never seen directed at me before. “What the fuck possessed two of my players to have a common brawl in the streets in front of the paparazzi?”
“I was—” Jordan started, but our manager cut him off with another slam of his hands, making the table shake.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses. You’re our new player—your conduct should be fucking exemplary, especially with those rumours that both of you assured me were false.” His gaze whipped to mine. “And you. You’ve never given me cause for concern. Yet now our phones are ringing off the hook, and our PR team are scrambling to explain your actions, which is a bit fucking difficult, given that every media outlet has video footage of you going at each other!” A vein pulsed in his forehead.
“I’m sorry.” My voice was low but sincere. It shouldn’t have happened, no matter how much Jordan got under my skin.
Harvey shook his head, sinking into his chair. “You’ll both be fined a week’s wages. And you’d better be on your best behaviour from now on.”
“My client assures me that this was a one-off. It was his first time playing in a Premier League match, and he let himself get carried away. It won’t happen again.” Jordan’s agent, Rory, spoke up, his smooth words clearly rehearsed.
Next to me, Amir sighed. “My client has an impeccable record, and we have plans to remind the media of that. I have a photo op set up for next week with the academy that taught Theo everything he knew and a statement prepared to go along with it. The press will eat it up.”
This was the first I’d heard about it, but I kept my mouth shut, smiling internally when Jordan bristled and then shot his agent an expectant glance. Rory rolled his eyes, turning to the paperwork in front of him.
“We have a few things up our sleeves, too. I’ve been consulting with Glevum’s PR reps, and we’ve come to an arrangement. I thought we should strike while the iron is hot, so to speak. We’ll play this off as a drunken mistake, the excitement of Jordan’s first match, and so on. I’ve arranged for a photo op tomorrow afternoon at a local sustainable, organic farm. Jordan and Theo will both attend, petting the animals, looking over the organic produce, and sharing drinks in the café.”
“Wh—” Jordan’s exclamation was cut off by Rory’s pointed glance, and it was only my ability to lock down my emotions—most of the time, unless Jordan wound me up—that stopped me from visibly reacting. This was an awful idea.
“The press will eat it up.” Amir repeated his earlier words, and this time, he seemed enthusiastic, nodding at Rory. Wonderful. They were both onside with this utterly ridiculous plan. Play nice with Jordan? At a farm, of all places?
